Wafula p'Khisa

Wafula p'Khisa Poems

There had been a Great Depression-
worse than what nearly mowed America down in the wake of 1930s
MAN had eaten man to the bone
and the latter erred, attempting to restore order distorted
...

Once there was a loose-tongued man on this staff
Who scattered secrets to unauthorized ears like grains to fowls
He must have been bred in the wild
where manners aren't on the menu of the moral diet
...

a time shall come, like ages before
when these deserted villages will burst into laughter
every prodigal would return on a colourful motorcade, singing redemption anew
with lots of bloody gifts, to buy our trust and cool our temper.
...

a girl, blinded by darkness of naivety, smiles back
at every creature behind tinted windows of hired wheels
until she follows him to bed to realize how beastly he is
He'd have already broken her leg when he pulls out.
...

The sun stares at us with malice
Striving for a safer ground under the trappings of its crimson light
We've just been birthed by the past into the present's tender hands
But the future keeps beckoning us, even before we could grow a tooth
...

if indeed Barrow could stick to his dream
and pull old Jammeh's smelly foot out of Gambia's golden boot
after Goodluck had left Nigeria for Buhari smiling
and Ouattara, Macky Sall and Patrice Talon had unseated powerholics in the West;
...

There was a moth feasting on the contents of our head
making the trunk to sway backwards
The smartest brains on the compound hid in the shadow of silence
to waste time on none- issues like soccer and sportpesa
...

a man doesn't dance twice in the arena
no matter how best he folds his limbs & wriggles his body
to follow the rhythm of the drum.
when nightfall comes, and the drum threatens to tear our ears;
...

after this we could sing only one song: cease fire
as fiery tongues open fresh wounds of hatred in our hearts
we'd have moved many worlds beyond
and the desperate longing for home marred by poignant memories.
...

Every time I watch the sun set
I pray it rests with your tears
but the shadow of darkness it casts behind
leaves no room for the moon to wave it's hand of light
...

A poet is an imperial prophet, anointed by the gods
to interpret their divine tongue to the ordinary mortal
secluded; he's confined on mountain tops, in caves, and quiet rivers
communing with his ancestors for peace, fertility, love & good harvest
...

When my lover blows his horn
It tears through the air with a resounding tune of an ancient imperial trumpet
My mother's pot falls off my steady head
and I tear down my father's gate, to run into his blissful arms.
...

Sabina left the aggravation of my mat
for the warmth of another man's bed on the hill

But I'll not go home
...

(... for Tamara)

The song I sing for you, may be punctuated by occasional pauses
But it will never kiss its dead end-
...

I neither like the smell of air
nor the darkening face of the sky
It will rain soon, very soon!
...

three days into each other
and you insist:
you must keep my wallet
and audit my phone.
...

There was a Country
that rested quietly
on the shoulders of the Zambezi and Limpopo
Envisioned in the philosophy of its forefathers
...

our ship had already anchored ashore
awaiting orders from the captain
to sail across the great sea, into gentle hands
of angels, gladly waiting at heavensgate.
...

I lost sight of the labyrinth, weaved with strands of innocence
Upon falling in the hot frying pan of adulthood
The future withdraws its warm hands, when I dash for it
to escape threatening woes of the present sun
...

I won't stop loving you, even if time comes off its hinges
and brothers confront, with tools of death; settling ancient tribal scores
To my heart I'll hold, and shield you from raging fire
until the storm's over, thus rebuild shattered dreams with renewed energy!
...

The Best Poem Of Wafula p'Khisa

I Once Dreamt About You

There had been a Great Depression-
worse than what nearly mowed America down in the wake of 1930s
MAN had eaten man to the bone
and the latter erred, attempting to restore order distorted
A Christmas of blood was inevitable
So I, a wretch with no notable roots health
Was elected for sacrifice and cleansing.
In the waiting bay, before joining my ancestors
I fought hard to deny not my eye vision
after a cold treatment in some slaughter-house underground
I'd have given anything to see the world a little longer!
Then, from somewhere unknown, a butterfly paid a visit…
It danced around, flapping its beautiful wings
in the most incredible fashion
I couldn't fathom who her drummer was
But my nerves ceased aching,
my head stopped its murderous drumming
and my heart resumed its normal rhythm
It fell at my feet, prompting me to turn
Alas, I saw a fully grown woman in your skin!
How could you, so refined an angel, come to such unholy place?
I rose to embrace you, and search for your rosiest face
Only to grab volumes of dense air
And discover the sun smiling at me through the window
I've never slept since then
I sit herein, watching the sun rise and set
Hoping one day it'll rise with you
And hurry not to set, till we consummate our love.

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